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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a girl, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing had to do with the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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